occasionally, i feel moved to mention the offer. otherwise, i trust that the right people for the offer will find their way there when the time is right. that is how i found my way to everything that has been helpful to me, including reiki, and it is the way that feels right for my offer.

at the same time, i often shy away from mentioning the offer even when i feel moved to do so. it turns out that there are reasons for this.

one reason is that i very much do not want to try to convince anyone to try reiki. i went through my dark night of the soul, as it were, as part of my experience with reiki. while it was worth it to be here in this place, i would not wish the hard of that on anyone.

that's why i've been thinking about my daily reiki sessions. it occurred to me that my experience was different; it did not involve the occasional session. i tried reiki and then took the first class and then the second class and then the master class. i have done a reiki session for myself every single day since that first class, over three years ago now. some days, i give myself more than one. i can no more imagine not doing it than i can imagine not brushing my teeth.

i cannot even believe that i have done this for three years. i generally think of myself as undisciplined and uncommitted and yet somehow, i committed to this without even thinking about it.

(there are other reasons why i don't want to try to convince people to try reiki. reasons like, people vary. or, i believe that we all have our own path and i will never try to tell you that my path is right for you. or, all roads lead to rome - as in, i'm pretty sure i could have found my way to this place any number of ways; reiki just happened to be the way i stumbled upon.)

another reason is that i don't know how to talk about my experience. well, other than in bits and pieces: i don't chew my nails, i don't hate myself, i don't need steroids to be around cats, i can sing higher notes again.

i was hoping to finally talk about my experience a little but it turns out that i still cannot find the words, even if i give myself permission to talk about it awkwardly and inadequately.

still, maybe this is enough for now. i guess doing something every day for three years says something about my experience, even without saying anything else. (then again, i have brushed my teeth at least twice a day every single day for what feels like a million years, and yet i still have a cavity.)

this month, i am thinking and journaling and practicing shiva nata with the intention of working on my relationship with beauty, especially beauty as it relates specifically to me. i wasn't planning on talking about it because beauty seems like one of the scariest things that i could possibly pick to work on. and yet, my sense is now that beauty as it relates to self is the next thing i need to talk about. funny how that works.

on that note, i thought i'd share some of the things that have come up for me thus far.

what do i know about beauty?

i do not like it. it is very uncomfortable, even as a thought. beauty is for other people, not for me. or for nature. or for atlas. i am definitely not beautiful. it does seem somewhat puzzling that i both want to be beautiful and very much do not want to be beautiful. beauty = visibility, and i definitely don't want to be visible.

oh. i do not actually want to be beautiful at all. i do not want to be beautiful. i want to feel beautiful. when i don't feel beautiful, i think that i need to be beautiful, and that seems impossible. partly because my truth - when it is not covered up by other people's truths and monsters and stories and such - is that beauty comes from the soul.

i think this is why the be-ing seems impossible. because even if i don't remember that beauty comes from the soul and thus is always present, i do remember that there is nothing i can do to become beautiful. the trouble is that i think it's because there is no hope, not because i remember that beauty just is.

where is beauty?

everywhere. in everything and in everyone. you will never be able to really truly see and appreciate the beauty in everyone until you can find it in yourself.

part of living with honesty and integrity is accepting the light as well as the dark, even though accepting the dark is much easier. you can do it slowly, with kindness and gentleness, but you are ready to begin.

after confusing my brain with shiva nata yesterday, i asked myself some questions. i often ask, "what am i wrong about?" (the answer is usually some variation of: "pretty much everything.") this time, i asked myself, "what is true?" this was my answer.

do you know that as of today, atlas has been with me for eight years? eight years! i cannot believe it.

in some ways, it feels like he's always been here. in other ways, it feels like i've hardly had any time with him and need at least eight more years. (at least.)

i was thinking about atlas and nature the other day and i realized that they elicit similar feelings in me.

there are moments when i look at atlas and i feel so much love and gratitude and joy that i can hardly stand it. my entire body wells up with feeling. he is full of sweetness and love and joy and a zest for life and he has been one of my greatest teachers. i cannot believe how lucky i am to have him in my life.

there are moments when i am in nature (particularly in the forest or by the ocean or when i see a bluebird) and i am so overcome by love and joy and beauty and wonder that i can hardly stand it. my entire body wells up with feeling. the best way i can describe it is to say that it feels like my soul is singing. i cannot believe how beautiful the world is and how lucky i am to be living in it.

so today, i will take atlas for a run on our favorite trail in the woods, and i will offer up a prayer of thanks for this moment, this puppy, this life. i wouldn't trade him (or it) for anything.

today, in search of a thread to share in my musings on trust, i pull from my journal.

what if i were worthy?

huh. that would be a game-changer. the trouble is that it's hard to just think yourself worthy after years of hearing, learning, thinking, believing that you are not.

if i believed in miracles, i would believe that i could just flip a switch and transform this pattern. except even that is scary because it seems to make all the years of suffering unnecessary.

and yet, maybe everything happens the way it does in order to bring us to this moment.

everything certainly does happen the way it does in order to bring us to this moment. that is the truth of it. (the question is whether there is a plan or a point or a method to the madness. maybe it doesn't really matter - unless it brings me comfort.)

there is a practice i find very useful in working with my fears, when i remember to do it. it's from the book feeding your demons by tsultrim allione.

atlas was having health troubles over the weekend - it is likely that he is developing an intolerance to the one food he can eat - so i was feeling very sad and discouraged. during my process of working with my sadness and discouragement, i remembered the practice, and felt strangely moved to share the result.

deep breath.

i ask to see the fear of losing atlas.

i see a tall stick figure. it's a bird with beady eyes and a giant beak. it might have wings but it is really hard to tell, possibly because the wings are just sticks dragging from the shoulders. the image looks awfully familiar. (now, as I write this, i think i know what it is. it looks like my memory of the drawing of that creature in the last book in the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe series - that creature that comes into the barn where they keep the donkey that they're pretending is a god and picks up the people and carries them away.)

i ask the fear what it wants, what it needs, and how it would feel if it got what it needed.

i change places. as the fear, i answer my questions.

i want to grab atlas and squeeze him tighter and tighter and never let him go. i want to keep him with me forever. i want to always be as happy as i was in that moment when lisa opened the door and i saw his happy face through the screen door and fell in love.

i need you to treat yourself with love and kindness. i need you to know that you are worthy of both, to know that you are worthy no matter what, to realize your inherent value. i am afraid that without something external that reminds you that you are loved no matter what, you will forget, and things will go back to the way they were before. i am afraid that you won't remember any of this without atlas here to remind you.

if i get what i need, i will feel safety and relief.

i change places.

i ask to transform myself into safety and relief. i see myself whooshing - like a genie going into a bottle - into a tall coke glass full of liquid with a bendable straw in it.

the fear drinks the liquid. (surprisingly, it has no trouble sipping from a straw with its beak.)

as it drinks, it begins to fill with color. by the time the glass is empty, the fear has transformed into a beautiful iridescent blue peacock.

i ask the peacock how it can help me.

i change places. as the peacock, i answer my questions.

i am here to help you remember your inherent beauty and radiance and worth and value. i am here to help you remember that everything you need is inside you. it lives in your heart. you are learning to access it. atlas is in your heart, and he will live there forever. you no longer need something external to remind you that you are worthy.

i can help you remember this by allowing your eye to catch the sparkle of sunlight on the wet grasses and flowers. when you see that sparkle, you will remember my message.

if you need to access me, put your hand on your heart and follow the sunshine. there is sunshine every day. you are learning to find it.

my computer is gone right now. it is at the apple store, where they are transferring all the files over to my new computer. hopefully they will both be home later today or tomorrow.

yes, i am finally upgrading my beloved eight-year-old imac. i have been procrastinating on this for well over a year and a half, and slowly working through the things that were in the way of me upgrading.

on monday, i was finally ready. and then i cried while i was driving to the apple store.

it turns out there was another reason i was procrastinating.

i got my computer the same year i got atlas. atlas doesn't look like he's eight, and i don't feel any older myself, so it is easy for me to forget that eight years have indeed passed. the decision to say goodbye to my computer reminded me.

so, i gave myself a mental hug, told myself that it was perfectly and completely ok that i might feel sad upon being reminded that the puppy i adore is getting older, and let myself be sad. now, i am enjoying his company while he is here - and soon, i will enjoy my new computer.

when i am completely grounded in myself and in my truth, i am never alone.

i believe in something bigger than all of us. the name i use depends on the day.

i believe in angels. i say thank you to them every night and sometimes i ask them for a sign to let me know they're near.

i believe in faeries. i build them summer cottages in the woods and ask them to keep the wasps away from atlas.

i believe that trees have spirits. (well, i believe that everything has a spirit.) once, when i said hello to a tree, i heard it say hello back in a deep, kind voice. it was so amazing that it brought me to tears.

i tell the trees and the flowers and the weeds how beautiful they are.

i say hello to the squirrels and the bees and the blue jays that stop by my window.

i talk to spiders and ladybugs and butterflies and dragonflies.

once, i even called a slug "sweetie", as in, "sweetie, you are the most gigantic slug in all the world!" (it came out unconsciously, which made me think that i use the term a bit too often.)

i am finding my way to my own truth.

the point is not to try to convince you that angels or faeries exist or that trees talk. i feel very strongly that we all have our own truth and i have no wish to try to convince anyone out of their truth and into mine.

the point is not even that angels or faeries exist or that trees talk. it's entirely possible that they don't.

the point is that i want to choose what to believe in.

i choose to believe in these things because the me who believes in them is different than the me who doesn't believe in them.

the me who believes in faeries and angels and talking trees is open to magic and mystery and possibility and wonder. she lives in a world where anything is possible and where things can happen in the blink of an eye. she remembers the inherent value in everyone and everything. she sees the goodness in everyone around her. she makes choices that are based on hope and faith. she makes choices that are based on the kind of world she wants to live in - a world full of peace and joy and kindness and love.

living in that world is important to me. the things i choose to believe remind me of that world. they help me to access the wiser part of me, the part of me who can rise above my fears and make those choices.

this isn't to say that i am always the me who believes in angels and faeries and talking trees; however, even in my most doubtful moments, i believe in the possibility of all of them.

i had an epiphany about surrender today that seemed perfectly suited for my trust project. since i was hiking at the time, i recorded it as a voice memo on my iphone so i would remember to write it down.

instead, i'm trying something new. listening to the recording made me laugh, so i thought i'd let you laugh along with me. fingers crossed this works!

you know how sometimes a book (or a quote or a song or a person or ..) will enter your life in what feels like supremely perfect timing? this feels like that.

here is some of what really struck me.

the idea that choosing to invest your energy into group perceptions is a way of trying to control the rate at which change happens in your life.

this hit me like a ton of bricks. of course this is what frightens me. i've always liked the idea of surrendering completely (you know, the whole "here i am, do with me as you will" thing) but it totally freaks me out. i like my life. i like thinking that i have control over it. what if it changes in a way that i can't even imagine right now. it doesn't matter if the change is good or bad, it still scares me.

the idea that choosing to invest your energy into group perceptions is essentially giving that group a vote in your life.

again, of course! this is exactly what i'm doing! i'm doing this every single time i think, "but what would they think?" i'm doing it for every single they. sometimes the they is clearly defined, sometimes it's a very fuzzy concept. when i look at it from this perspective, it really hits home. i don't want any of those theys to have a vote and here i am giving them one - and it's often the deciding vote.

the idea that it's not the choices that are important, it's the motivation behind the choice.

this has got me thinking about all my choices and whether they're based on fear or faith. surprisingly, it works even for seemingly small ones.

sitting at the computer - accompanied by mindless internet wandering - is often based on fear. i'm scared that i can't trust what i really want to do in that moment. i'm scared of even listening to what i really want to do in that moment. i want someone else to tell me the right thing to do that will make everything work out perfectly until the end of time. i'm afraid that if i'm not at the computer, i'm not working, and then i am somehow being a drain on society. the list goes on and on.

i could go on and on, but i will spare you. it has clearly got me thinking though. (you know, because i don't do nearly enough thinking as it is. hee.)